“Ramon? Ramon, are you okay? Nani ga okotta?” Toshiro said. He yelled into the phone, demanding that Ramon say something, until finally the call disconnected. Toshiro sat in his black office chair frozen in place, his silver eyes wide and his hands slightly shaking. I can’t believe something happened to Ramon, especially soon after Kole was taken. What am I going to do? I mean I want to find Kole, but the information Ramon gave me, gives me no leads. Then I don’t even know what’s happened to Ramon. I mean, for all I know Ramon could have been captured or left unconscious on the ground. What am I going to-- All of sudden, Toshiro remembered the chip located in the back of Ramons neck and pulling his chair to his oak desk, he opened his navy …show more content…
“Mortimer. We’ve got a job to do. So why don’t you stop playing your card game and get ready to go,” Toshiro …show more content…
Ya don’t need my help. The sun’s shining and I reckon it’s about 1:00 pm, so you could get to Trujillo in a few hours no problem.” Toshiro's eyes narrowed into his slights, his eyebrows furrowed and the lines on his forehead deepened. “Gomakasu! I’m the superior and you will follow my orders. Unless, you don’t mind getting another markup and a demotion,” Toshiro said with an evil smirk in his eyes. Mortimer’s face paled and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His eyes darted back and forth and pulling at the color of his white button up, he said, “Alright, I’ll come with ya, but I ain’t happy about it.” Mortimer then gathered his stuff and the two walked out of the square gray building of the CIA into a red camaro and headed towards the airport. Ramon Ramon’s ruby red eyes fluttered open as he awoke from his forced slumber. He tried to shift his legs and adjust the position of his arms, so as to shake the tingly feeling from his limbs. But as soon as he tried, he realized his legs and arms had been strapped to a chrome table-a table he seemed to lay
His body, as he got into bed, was icy. He could feel his conscious get gloomy with exhaustion but every time he let his eyes flutter closed, it seemed they were wide open staring into the dark bulky stone ahead of him in the morgue. With a deep breath Edmund shifted onto his side to calm his overstimulated nerves, conscious of his heart pounding against his frail chest again.
"Ah, I see you. Stay there, I'll walk with you." Yoongi turned his head to stare at Jimin from a distance, hanging up the phone.
Latt woke up with a very sharp pain in his back feeling very dizzy. It was very dark outside Latt bolted upright, fearing a heart attack only to find that the pain in his back had been replaced by a similar sharp pain in his leg that was getting worse. He reached towards his bedside lamp
“Let us know if you need anything else.” Sharon nodded and watched as he and the rest of the team, with the exception of Andy, gathered their things and left.
“Around four o’clock today,” explained Fernando “that is when Isabella called me telling me that Miguel went missing.”
In the middle of the night, Alex was in the middle of finishing his paper for a school assignment with already five empty cans of Red Bull. Alex couldn’t think straight knowing that it was due the next day. Exhausted, Alex decides to take a thirty minute nap. What harm would a thirty minute nap do to me?, thought Alex. He went to bed, set the alarm, and fell asleep. Ten minutes seem to pass when Alex wakes up, but something didn’t seem right. He couldn’t seem to move or speak. How odd, Alex thought. Moments passed before he realized that his eyes weren’t even open. Yet, he was aware of all of his surroundings. Is this a dream?, Alex thought to himself. Moments passed when Alex didn’t seem to know what to do but to just look at his room, until
“Well, of course he’s not going to want to be even near us, right?” Kohta suggested as if it was so obvious. “He hates us. He even said that he wanted us to die. The only reason he might be cooperating is because he’s in our debt.”
The big message that Chris Mckinney is trying to send the readers is that you may not have much or nothing at all, you might not be the smartest,or make the right choices or the guy to be in an honors class but what you can do is set a goal no matter what it is or what the circumstances are anything is achievable as long as you put your mind to it you can accomplish it.
Denny O’Callaghan woke to see bloodstains on his pillow, his bedsheets. He closed his eyes, groaned and rolled over. Maybe, he figured, he could fall back asleep. Blot out of his mind what he’d just seen. But the back of his head throbbed. He touched it and felt a bump the size of an egg, and his hair was sticky and matted there. His throat was so dry. He coughed. Blurry memories, specters nearly, from the night before flitted about in his mind’s eye. Vaguely shifting images. Incomplete. He’d been drinking tequila shots with the guys from the firehouse. Yelling. And then—nothing. He hoped if he kept his eyes closed long enough, maybe it would all go away.
She stumbled once finally standing, her head banging against the bedside table before finally hitting the wood flooring. The sound of something falling was noted by her tired brain at the same time as the sharp pain in her hand when Norma laid a hand on the floor. There seemed to be a significant lag between actions and reactions as her troubled eyes swept through the bedroom. Throughout her blurred vision she saw blood on her hand and little silver things shining in the middle of that small red pool, deep in her flesh; she didn't exactly understood what the things were until she noticed glass shards on the floor. She grabbed the lamp with her uninjured hand and got up on shaky legs, ready to collapse at any
While sitting on the bus, Julian noticed that a negro man had got on. He observed that he was well dressed and carried a briefcase, which may have unconsciously influenced his decision in choosing to sit next to him. He knew this choice would anger his mother, but he found pleasure in bothering her and watching her become upset. Knowing this, Julian decided to try conversing with the man he sat next to and ended up making a fool of himself while unsuccessfully teaching his mother her a lesson:
Hi, my name is Deven Ramos. I am a student at Southeast Whitfield High School. I am currently taking a early childhood class; as part of my grade I am required to observe either a daycare or elementary school. I'm wondering if I would be able to do so on October 10th and on either one of the following days in the month of November; 21,22, or the 23.
Melisende's injured hand lay limp in the bonds as her other worked feverishly trying to free herself from the makeshift bonds keeping her ankles and wrists held together. Her fingers curled beneath the string in an effort to get her palm curled enough to free her hand however just as she managed to get one finger lodged through, she heard the hard clumps of his boots as they approached her bound form before she felt his roughened hands moving around her svelte body before lifting her up over his shoulder and flopping her down on her stomach, her wrists and ankles still painfully held together behind her. Melisende inhaled sharply in pain as her stomach was pressed painfully against his shoulder.
Gerard rolled over and sat up as he heard Mikey open cabinets and drawers downstairs. His head still felt heavy and fuzzy with disorientation, like it had been yesterday, feeling like someone had filled his head with molten metal and it had slowly hardened overnight. He placed his feet on the carpet and willed his legs to allow him to stand up on the cold, hard wood. He didn't feel particularly sick, more depersonalized, like a part of him was still laying in bed
It was a cold winter day with papery white snow all around me. I felt relieved because I wear white so I can blend in with the snow. Maybe no one can notice me if I crouch. I am met with a tall white building like the snow. I walked door after door of the blank hallways of limestone heights, it was an eight story building located at the outskirts of Queens. Rudolf Black lived in apartment number 809 in Limestone heights on Union street. It was noon so I didn’t see many people but I noticed there are much more asians and hispanic people than usual. Not that I’m racist or anything but it feels very unnatural, like everything is wrong, kinda like a parallel universe. After several minutes I see a door, it is dark gray gun metal like all the other